


Guessing Games

by The_Problematic_Blender



Series: Brothers In Crime [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Brothers In Crime, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: Gavin guesses as to why Trevor has that scar.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CampCounselorDavid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampCounselorDavid/gifts).



> This turned into trash

"None of the cuts need stitches, and all the glass is out, so you're good to go." Caleb says, pulling off the latex gloves he was wearing. "Come in before lunch so I can check for infection."

"Thanks Caleb." Trevor said with a tired smile. Caleb hums out an affirmation and moves away from the operating table Trevor sat on, allowing Ryan and the Lads their privacy with him.

Ryan's the first one to move towards Trevor, and the Lads let him, watching as the usually intimidating and merciless killer take on a softer side to him that they never saw unless it involved Trevor. "You alright?" He asks.

"I'm fine." Trevor responds, his voice quiet. Ryan reaches a hand up to cup his younger brother's face, gently running his thumb along the large scar on the left side of Trevor's face. "I'm fine, Ryan." Trevor repeats, this time slightly firmer.

"I know, I know." Ryan says, hand moving away. He turns to the Lads now, eyes narrowed as the soft side of him turned into a protective, rigid side. "What the fuck were you four doing?"

"We were hanging out at a bar and some assholes started harassing us." Jeremy explains, messing with the bandages that wrapped his bloody knuckles. "A dude tried to hit Trevor in the head with a bottle, but Trevor stood up from his chair and got hit in the shoulder."

"Why are you guys starting bar fights _again?"_

"We didn't start shit," Michael cuts in. "they came up to us."

"Semantics." Ryan spits the word out harshly.

"Guys." Trevor interrupted. "I'm fine, I'll live." Ryan looked ready to object, but decided against it thanks to Trevor's patented look of _Are you really going to start shit over this._

"Treyco, where did you get that scar, Treyco?" Gavin asks, steering the conversation off topic.

"A wound, Gavin." Trevor's smartass response subtly hints that it's not something he wants to talk about.

Gavin continues anyway. "Come on, Trevor. I want to know."

"It's nothing important."

"Ryan," Gavin looks to the older man. "will you tell me, Ryan?"

Ryan's expression is cold and firm. "No." 

Gavin pouted and crossed his arms. "I want to know how you got that scar, Trevor."

"And I don't want to tell you." Trevor returns, crossing his own arms.

"Gavin." Jeremy says warningly.

"What if I guess?" Gavin asks. "Will you tell me if I guess correctly?"

"If I say yes, will you go away?" Trevor asks. "The painkillers are kicking in and I'm tired."

"Yes."

"Then sure." Gavin's eyes light up in victory. Trevor had a fond smile on his face. "Now please leave." Gavin smiles as he skips out of the infirmary, Jeremy and Michael following him with parting goodbyes. Ryan lingers a little longer, and Trevor gives him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Ryan."

"Are you sure you want Gavin breathing down your neck with guesses?" Ryan asks, receiving a shrug in response.

"He won't guess correctly, and he'll grow bored eventually." Trevor says. "Besides, I can't stop him now."

"I think you underestimate Gavin." Ryan says with a fond sigh.

"I think you underestimate me." Trevor counters.

Ryan smiles, ruffling his younger brother's hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll let you get some sleep."

~☆~

Trevor didn't know what he suspected next morning, but it certainly wasn't this.

"Gang fight?"

"No."

"Torture?"

"No."

"Car crash?"

"No."

"Motorcycle crash?"

"I can't drive motorcycles."

"Bar fight."

"What the fuck is he doing?" Geoff asks, scowling over his cup of coffee.

"No."

"He's trying to guess how Trevor got his scar." Michael answers, not looking up from his phone.

"Running with scissors."

"Why?" Geoff asks.

"No."

"Because Trevor won't tell and Gavin is an annoying bitch." Michael says.

"Michael!" Gavin whines, making Michael look at Gavin from over his glasses.

"No." Trevor answers.

"That wasn't a guess!"

"It's still no."

"Did Ryan give it to you?"

"No."

"You were cutting vegetables and you slipped."

"Yes, I was standing in place, cutting vegetables, and all of a sudden, I fell over and cut my face open."

"Rabid dog."

"No."

"Rabid cat."

"No."

"Rabid ferret?"

"No."

"If you two are going to continue doing this, take this to somewhere else." Geoff said. "I'm not listening to this all day."

Gavin and Trevor look between Geoff and each other before silently agreeing on something. Gavin takes his phone and keys from the counter and Trevor takes his sweatshirt from the coat rack and they leave the penthouse, the two not seen from until three in the afternoon.

The diner they were sitting in since eight am kicked them out after an ample amount of customers were bothered by two gentlemen talking about toothpaste and tennis rackets in violent ways.

~☆~

"Chopstick fight?" Gavin asks one day in the armory. It's been a week since the guesses died down, but it seemed more like he was out of things to guess of then his curiosity died down.

"Chopstick fight?" Trevor repeats, watching Gavin's form from where he's sitting. "Like bringing a fork to a chopstick fight?"

"No, but is that right?" Gavin throws the knife, but it misses the target and hits the cinder block wall.

"Nope." Trevor frowns. "God, you really are bad at this. No wonder Ryan gave up on you."

"Look, I don't like guns, so I might as well try to be good at something."

"Really?" Trevor asks with his arms crossed. "Because the gold chromed forty-four desert eagle with your last name engraved into it says otherwise." Gavin gives Trevor a glare, one that is supposed to burn Trevor to the core. Trevor doesn't flinch, he's trained not to.

"It was a gift." Gavin says, eyes back on the target. He takes another knife from the table behind him and throws it carelessly, it nicking the side of the target and clattering to the ground.

"I don't like guns much either." Trevor says, standing up and joining Gavin. "Too loud."

"Didn't think you'd be one to hate loud noises, especially since you are a bloody torturer." Gavin says.

"I was always a quiet kid." Trevor shrugs as Gavin takes another knife and aims for the target.

"Why?" Gavin asks, letting Trevor move Gavin around by millimeters, his hands adjusting Gavin's form.

"People trust the quiet kids." Trevor says. "Especially the nice ones. No one realizes that those are the kids that know everything about everyone."

"Were you a gossip in school, Treyco?" Gavin asks with a silly grin.

"Nope." Trevor says. "Wasn't much into rumors, I enjoyed knowing truths no one else knew."

"Why didn't you become an informant then?"

"Because I enjoy them screaming it out to me as I open them up more."

"Can... can you not be creepy while you're right next to me?" Gavin asks. "You bloody whispered that into my ear." Trevor chuckles, reluctantly stepping away from Gavin.

"Don't exaggerate your throw. If you move your arm to your left, you're going to throw to your left." Trevor says, and Gavin nods. He takes a deep breath, releasing it before throwing it. His arm still crosses his body like his earlier throws, but Gavin noticed it this time and tried to catch it, making the knife lodge into the outer edge of the target. Gavin looks to Trevor with excitement. "Well, it's barely a hit, but it's a hit."

"Yes!" Gavin exclaims, pumping his fist.

"Now do it again."

"Aw, Treyco!"

~☆~

"Isaac, love, do you have my money?" Gavin asks, his accent thick and exaggerated.

"Is it really your money?" Isaac retaliates, his west coast accent a stark difference to Gavin's.

"It's Fake AH's, and that makes it mine." Gavin says with complete confidence, to the point where it was borderline arrogance. "You still haven't told me where it is, Isaac."

"Well where's your muscle?" Isaac continues, avoiding Gavin's questions.

"Oh, love, he's right there." Gavin says. "I know I'm wearing sunglasses at night, but good lord."

"You don't mean the guy who looks like a ninja stick bug." Trevor chuckles, that's a new one.

"While his choice of clothing is rather... odd." Trevor make an indignant noise. His work clothes involved layers, a lot of them, all as black as his head of hair. He had shorts under his jeans, multiple pairs of socks hiding in his boots, a thermal jacket over his long sleeved shirt, short sleeve shirt, and tank top. He had a bandana over his mouth and aviators over his eyes. Yes, he can be a sweaty mess after jobs, but that's the magic of layers. 

"Says the one wearing a blue button up shirt and pink Hawaiian shorts." Trevor retaliates.

"But..." Gavin says, holding his finger out to Trevor. "He's a great friend of mine, Zed is, and he'll be authorizing your payment, if you have the money or not."

"What do you mean?" Isaac asks.

"If you don't have the money, we'll get the payment through... other means." Gavin looks to Trevor with a grin. "Isn't that right, Zed?"

Trevor doesn't say anything, just watching Isaac's face as realization and fear sparks on his face. He turns to run, but Trevor is faster, throwing a knife into his calf before he could make it far. Isaac makes a pained noise as he hits the ground.

"Oh, Isaac, love, you shouldn't have done that." Gavin says with fake upset. He and Trevor walks over to Isaac, who is trying to crawl away. "Dr. Zed is not a lot of fun angry." Trevor pulls the throwing knife from Isaac's leg.

"Heh, Isaac Cox." Trevor chuckles.

"Did you trip, fall on your face, and a rock cut it up?"

"What?" Trevor asks, so confused by what Gavin says that he breaks character. It takes moment for it to click. "Oh. No."

"Dammit!" Gavin exclaims, Trevor smiles at his disappointment.

"We have a job to do." Trevor says, back into work mode.

~☆~

"Was it from a knife?" Gavin asks after a job, Gavin interrogating, Trevor torturing, and Jeremy as a back up as things went south. It happened before. Trevor freezes, he doesn't mean to, and he's back to cleaning within a second, but Gavin catches the pause. "Aha! It was a knife!"

Trevor curses under his breath. He knew Gavin would catch on soon, his guesses were becoming less and less detailed. "Yeah."

"Spill."

"A knife caused my scar." Trevor says, and before Gavin could yell, Trevor continues on. "I'm telling you as much as you guessed."

"Was it Ryan?" Gavin asks.

"No." Trevor says, scrubbing a little harder at the blood that was half dried on dirty white tiles. Jeremy notices this, because of course he does, it's Jeremy. Jeremy noticed everything.

"Gavin, everyone had a stressful day." Jeremy says, looking up at Gavin. "I think tomorrow would be a better day for this."

Gavin doesn't take the hint that Jeremy is about to hit him over the head with. "But I want to know now."

"Now is not the time." Jeremy insists, but Gavin ignores him.

"Was it a gang?"

"No."

"A friend?"

"No." The tension rises with every word.

"Was it a classmate?"

"No."

"Did you do it?"

"No."

"Gavin, stop."

"Was it someone you worked with?"

"No."

"Bloody Christ, who was it? Your mother?"

"Yes Gavin." Trevor throws down the magic eraser and sits up, eyes on Gavin with a fire in them that Gavin has never seen in Trevor. Only in Ryan in rare, _rare_ occasions. "My catholic mother took a knife from the kitchen drawer and slashed me across my face because I had let my guard down and grown close to a boy in the seventh grade. She screamed at me and threw things at me. I ran to my room, shoved a few necessities in my backpack, popped the screen off my window and ran. I managed to get to Ryan's house a state over by morning, and I was fucking lucky he was there. So congratulations, Gavin, you got my fucking sob story."

Trevor is surprised to feel Gavin's arms around him, hugging him from behind and avoiding the blood. Trevor doesn't notice that he's crying until Gavin's body is pressing against his back. "Hey, it's alright." Gavin says quietly. "Sorry I was being a right twit. I shouldn't have pressed."

"I'm fine." Trevor insists, despite the fact that all he saw was a blurry mess of red and white.

"I promise that I will never press again." Gavin says, and the faintest hint of a smile ghosts his face.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't lie to me, Gavin." Gavin chuckles in Trevor's ear before Trevor feels Gavin's lips press into his neck. It's sweet, tender, and Trevor closes his eyes and hums lowly.

"I'd appreciate if you two didn't flirt in front of me." Jeremy pipes up, shocking the two, they completely forgot he was here. Before either one of them can't stammer out a response, Jeremy stands up from where he was wiping blood off the floor, it now spotless of blood. "I'll give you two some space, but you'll have to get you own ride home. I'm forcing Matt out from his cave to a movie in an hour, and I want to shower first." Jeremy takes Trevor's duffle bag of supplies and slings it over his shoulder. "You got twenty-three minutes before Ryan and Geoff are asking questions." Jeremy says, heading over to the door of the one bedroom house in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, and one more thing." Jeremy says, hand on the door. "Thank fucking god. Guessing how someone got a scar was the worst fucking excuse for sexual tension."

Jeremy closes the door behind him, leaving the two in silence. Trevor doesn't know what to say after that, but Gavin doesn't speak either, so Trevor takes the leap. "Should... should we talk?"

"No." Gavin says quietly, hands finding Trevor's jacket zipper and pulling it down. "We've done enough talking tonight." He says, another kiss being pressed into the base of his neck as his sweatshirt was pulled off him.

"You make a convincing argument." Trevor says, melting into Gavin's touch.

"Do you forgive me?" Gavin whispers into Trevor's neck.

"I don't know yet, maybe you can convince me." Trevor says with a grin. That grin disappears as soon as Gavin sucks on a part of Trevor's skin, drawing out a quiet moan from Trevor.

"How's that?" He asks.

"It's a step in the right direction."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment, it's my only incentive for writing.


End file.
